Någon Som Jag Brukade Vetaacters
by Alex Sambora
Summary: Someone from Will Makt's past comes for an unexpected visit, causing rough tension between the two, and he unexpectedly winds up looking to Wrinkly for guidance on how to deal with it.


Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING BUT MORGAN, ALEX, JADE, AND THE PEOPLE AT THE OTHER BAR.

EH: So this spawned completely out of randomness one time-

CCL: Hey, whatever happened to using us?

CG: Shut up, she hasn't even used use that much!

RDOB: OH MY GOD JUST GET ON WITH THE FIC!

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Chapter 1-Height Differences

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Henrik Hanssen walked through the double doors with a butterfly painted over it. Was this a gay bar? He wasn't sure but he also wasn't going to judge. It didn't seem so when the first thing he saw was a teenage brunette dancing wildly to the men on stage singing something about bitches better having their money.

"Excuse me," he said, tapping the young dancer on her shoulder. She stopped and looked at him.

"May I help you sir?" she said politely though she was mad at him for ruining her groove.

"Yes, will you please tell me where I can find the owner of this establishment?"

"Oh. Sure!" She was very hyper, somewhat like Chantelle. She pointed to the men on stage. "One of them, the gray-haired one, is up there. He's the male bar owner and his name is Cranky. He's busy so go over to the bar," She pointed the other way, "and ask to speak to Wrinkly."

"Thank you Miss... uh..." Hanssen cocked his head to the side. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Minise." The teenager held her hand out. Hanssen shook it. "Alex Minise."

"Miss Minise."

"And your name?" Alex inquired.

"Henrik Hanssen. Director of Surgery at Holby City Hospital in Holby."

"Where's Holby, Dr. Hanssen?"

"It's in England, near Bristol." Alex nodded.

"OK. Have fun, Mr. Hanssen!" She waved goodbye and skipped away. as Hanssen walked up to the bar where a woman _**definitely**_ shorter than him was standing, talking to a patron.

"Excuse me, madam." The white-haired person turned around to face Hanssen.

"Well hi there mister," she said in what sounded like a southern accent, smiling and leaning on the counter. "Welcome to the Butterfly Bar. How may I assist you?"

"Hm, southern North American," Hanssen mused, earning him a strange look from the woman. "May I speak to Wrinkly?"

"Yes you may."

Silence.

"Where is she?" Hanssen asked.

"You're talking to her," the woman said.

"You're Wrinkly?" She, Wrinkly, nodded.

"One and only. Before you ask why they call me that it's a long story." Hanssen rolled his eyes some, giving a slight smile. "Now what can I do for you?"

"Do you know whether or not the Acapella Döv Folium Bar is still in service?"

"Yes, I do. It still is and if you want I can call for a ride to take you there."

"Thank you."

"Follow me."

Hanssen followed Wrinkly to a room behind the bar that reminded him of his office back at Holby as it was just as plush and comforting with a fern and some azeleas hanging in one corner. Wrinkly walked to a phone and dialed a number. She spoke in reply to the person who had picked up-somebody named Will. That name sounded familiar to him for some reason.

"Biscuit, what's your name?" Wrinkle sudden question brought Hanssen back to the present.

"Henrik Hanssen," he replied.

"Mr. Hanssen, where are you from?"

"Before here or originally?"

"Well before here as I can tell by your name you're Swedish." Hanssen nodded.

"Holby. It's in England near Bristol." Wrinkly nodded back and turned her attention back to the phone.

"A Mr. Henrik Hanssen coming from Holby, a town near Bristol," she said. There was a long pause. "Will? Will, are you OK?" Short pause. "OK, I'll see you in about ten minutes." She hung up and turned back to Hanssen. "Weird, it's like he knows you personally."

"Hey, Wrinkly, what's with Alex saying a man was-" a voice started but suddenly stopped. Hanssen turned around to find the older man, apparently the male bar owner, standing behind him gaping in shock.

"Hello there," Hanssen said flatly.

Awkward silence.

"Um, Mr. Hanssen, this is my husband," Wrinkly said, quickly hurrying to the side of her co-owner and apparently husband. "Cranky."

"He's..." Cranky started but couldn't get anything else out.

"Is your husband OK?" Hanssen asked.

"Ignore him," Wrinkly began, "he's not used to seeing people taller than him. Well..." She looked between the two men. "_Visibly_ taller anyway." She slapped her husband across the face, bringing him out of his spell.

"Who is this?" Cranky finally mananged.

"This is Henrik Hanssen from Holby, a town near Bristol." The bar owners looked at Hanssen. "Not that it's any of my business, but why were you asking if Will and Charlie's bar was still in service?"

Silence.

"Because," Hanssen sighed, "Will Makt, it's male owner, is my younger twin brother."


End file.
